


Bad Blonde

by took_skye



Series: Living For the Night [26]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Adolescent Sexuality, Alternate Universe - Noir, F/M, Non-Graphic Violence, POV First Person, POV Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-05
Updated: 2011-03-05
Packaged: 2017-10-23 01:13:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/took_skye/pseuds/took_skye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When PI Aaron Hotchner finds out that a damsel in distress is, in fact, George Foyet's daughter he can't just let it slide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Blonde

  
_""Playtime is over...Now it's time to wake up. ~ Hayley Stark, Hard Candy_

***///***

The tail starts at protection, but ends at anger in front of the happy little Foyet home. The girl, the pretty blond in the schoolgirl uniform, isn’t some abused chippy-on-the-side, she’s Foyet’s daughter. The daughter Morgan’s told me about with the soulless eyes and a love of knives to match her creator.

Funny, her eyes didn’t seem soulless when they looked into mine. The desperation on her lips spoke of a love for the wrong man, not for sharpened steel.

I grip the steering wheel; twist it until there’s a high-pitched squeal of pain from the leather.

My moral judgment tells me to go, leave the girl until I have the case that involves her I’m bound to, but my instincts tell me to stay and end this now before she becomes the next unstoppable Foyet.

Lots of terrible things can happen to a wild teen girl in this city. I know. I’ve seen it happen time and time again over the years.

***

It takes her all of ten minutes after the house goes dark to just walk out the front door.

Jeans worn low and tight, heeled black boots, and a skimpy top make her look like the average teen girl. The blade she tosses in the passenger seat as she gets into the family car shows her to be anything but.

She drives dangerously, making her easy to follow even when she bursts and weaves ahead of the cars around her. The driving is wild not because she’s trying to loose me, she doesn’t even know I exist, but because she just doesn’t care. She wants the speed, the close calls, the adrenaline, and believes the other drivers will be good or lucky enough to survive her.

The game ends at the seedy strip joint, _Pussy Liquors_ , and my instincts immediately go on high alert. There is no good reason a girl should be here and yet the little Foyet (Lil! That was what Morgan said her name was!) tucks her blade into her boot and walks right past the doorman with no trouble or hesitation.

***

It’s the End of Days within. Lights tinge everything and everyone red as strobes cut down movement to flashes, clips of a movie pulled apart and sewn back together. Fog machines emanate the smells of sex and candy that deep breathing causes to catch in the nose and throat until I have to cough it back out.

Lil flits through the throngs with little trouble, her slenderness a clear advantage. As she goes I see her collect things. A drink, a kiss, a lowering of her pants, a dance partner.

“Hey, handsome,” a woman approaches from my right. “Care for a dance?”

“No. Thank you, but no.” I reply only half-listening to her as I watch the girl slip away with a clown of a man.

“Come on, I’m a hell of a dancer.”

The woman’s hands are on my chest now and I’m too polite to just push her off. “Just tell me who that man with the little blond is.”

“It’ll cost you a dance.”

“I’ll pay you if you answer,” I look down at the redhead, flashing the bills, “and then leave me alone.”

The woman smiles as she grabs the dough. “He’s a pimp, goes by Viper.”

“Thank you.”

By the time I’m back on the move so is Lil, only now she’s got the peacocking pimp with her. She’s not about to murder on the dance-floor so I’m guessing it’s either out the back or to the bathroom where screams and blood will either go unnoticed, ignored, or misunderstood.

The bathroom is closer and I see the door open. Bathroom it is. She’s already gained enough confidence to kill out in the open…not a good sign for the future.

I throw elbows and barrel through dancers and strippers and fuckers, this time I stop for no one. Only when I arrive at the Men’s Room do I pause to give a slight cringe. It sounds crowded. The girl and the pimp aren’t the only ones thinking they’ll have privacy in there and I shudder to think what I’m about to see.

***

The line of sinks is accompanied by a line of people doing lines of drugs that they don’t even have names for. The stalls are where payments are made and I don’t even want to hazard a guess what that could involve.

A scrawny drag queen stops hitting on a jock of a man to approach me. “You must be the lil’ one’s daddy?”

“Okay.”

“Last stall,” he, she, drawls out, “and, if I were you, I’d teach the scumbag a lesson he won’t forget.”

I simply nod and continue past the sinks to the large stall in the back. I listen carefully a moment to muffled talk.

“You have an amazing ass,” a male voice grumbles into a kiss. “Really makes up for the small breasts.”

The kiss breaks with the girl’s laugh. “You’d be hot too if it weren’t for the guy-liner.”

Feet stumble over each other and someone hits the wall. Belts snap and zippers slip into the rustle of fabric.

“Now close your eyes, Viper.”

I finger the lock, which turns itself free with little resistance and lets poor hinges part the door from its position revealing the ones of those secreted inside.

The man on his feet, his eyes closed, body relaxed, and boxers bulged. The girl on her knees, one hand massaging cock through cloth and the other slipping back for her weapon.

I get my weapon out before Lil Foyet gets hers halfway. I grab her by the roots and pull up, getting nails buried into my skin for the act, as I point the gun at Viper’s main head. “Leave. Now.”

The pimp’s eyes fly open, then he jumps back nearly tripping over the pants at his knees. It’s always amazing the speed with which a man will lose all his bravado when his pants are down and there’s a gun to his head. Viper bolts without hesitation and I lock the door, other fist still buried in the girl’s hair.

Lil’s relaxed some at my voice, recognizing it. She starts to laugh a little. “My hero.”

I let her go with a push to the wall. She lands with her back to me but I can feel the smirk anyway. She thinks this is another game. The girl, the gun, and the angry PI. I aim the pistol at her head. “Stay.”

She giggles to show her age. “This is a little kinky, right? I mean, it’s not just me, is it?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh come on, Aaron Hotchner,” my last name is ooze from her lips. “Penthouse letters probably start out this way. ‘I was following the beautiful young damsel in distress but then, in the bathroom stall, I caught a glimpse of that hot pink whaletail and just…’,” she ends in a hiss that falls into a moan then laugh.

“Get on your knees and do it slowly.”

“Oh you are not making things better in the kink department,” she laughs out but does as told showing more of that teen-themed underwear. “What now, Master?”

“Take the knife out of your boot and toss it to your right.”

Now she hesitates. She doesn’t want to give her weapon up.

I cock the gun and repeat the order.

One of the girl’s knees goes up and she starts to unzip her boot.

“Slowly,” I remind her. If she’s like her father, she’ll try whatever she has to in order to get out of this and I’m not about to take any chances.

The silver almost blinds in the harsh florescence of the room as it’s revealed like some long lost secret treasure. Small, delicate, fingers toss it with ease, care, and skill. Just far enough to relax the average person, but still close enough she could probably dive for it.

“Anything else on you.”

“My clothes.”

“And?”

She turns, taking the stance reminiscent of a cat waiting to pounce as she looks up at me. “How about you come over here an frisk me yourself?” The kohl around her eyes matched to shimmering black shadow only adds to the image, as does the way she slowly rises to stand. Panther turned girl, only the eyes holding the connection between animal and human.

“I didn’t tell you to stand.”

“I know,” her lips curl into her father’s smile. “I’m positively wicked.” A hand moves behind her as if to scratch her back.

I catch the second knife as she pulls it low to her side. She doesn’t get two steps before my gun’s secured and I slam her back into wall. The hand on her wrist twists hard until fingers falter their hold and the blade slips out and tap-dances on the linoleum floor before I crush it under my shoe.

“I’m not someone you want to test your boundaries with, Lilith,” I growl low looking in her eyes for that one thing that’ll keep me from squeezing her neck until all the air in her is used up. _Fear. Show me fear. Please, let some of your mother be in you. Give me a reason not to kill you!_

“So you know who I am?” The girl’s interest shows, genuine interest at how I might know.

I find my hands relaxing their hold a little. “Yes, and I know what you are.”

She smirks a little. “Really? And what,” I feel her free hand move to my stomach, “am I?”

In a bold move the teen’s unknowingly given me her saving grace.

“Someone who uses sex to get her way.”

The smile fades as Lil’s hand stops just above my pants. “I don’t fuck anyone.”

I release my hand from her throat. “No, but you dress provocatively and are willing to at least potentially perform other sexual acts to get your way.” I take her hand from my stomach as carefully as I’d touch an explosive. “You’re not thinking about sex right now and you weren’t while on your knees. You’re thinking about control and that, if you get sexual, those more powerful than you will do as you say. Viper dropped his guard, you expected me to back off enough for you get the upper hand or escape this situation. Even your father’s started to bend a little to your will…did he introduce you to this?"

“To what?” Anger’s turned to an almost innocent fixation.

“Sex as a method of control.”

She snorts a touch.

“How long do you think he’ll let you have the wheel before taking it back? Whatever happened in the car this morning between you two isn’t the end, it’s the beginning. Your father isn’t a man who likes being played, you should know that better than most.”

She plays upset off as teen arrogance. “Oh, so, what, here you come to teach me the errors of my ways?”

“No, that’s pointless and we both know it.”

“Then what the fuck was that little speech about?”

“Consider it a warning. Something to think about.”

“Gee, great, thanks,” she rolls her eyes in teen melodrama before returning the baby blues to me. “What now?”

“Now you’re going to come with me to the police station.”

“What, you gonna have my parents come pick me up?” Her smile’s returned.

I smile back a touch. “Not exactly.”

***

“You know Foyet’ll fuck you for this if it takes him the rest of his life,” Morgan comments casually, lounging across the desk from me as he takes his newly refilled glass to his lips.

I smile a touch. “That’s nothing new, Derek.”

Morgan grins like the cat that ate the canary. “Very true, Boss Man.”

“Anyway, it was better than the other options I had.”

“Which were?”

“Killing her or letting her go.”

Morgan nods some, sips his drink, before starting to laugh. “Still, 72-hour psych hold on the daughter, he’s gonna be especially pissed.”

“Are you going to be alright?”

“Sure,” Morgan shrugs out. “Foyet can get as pissy as he wants but it was a legit hold thanks to Schuller. I got the law backin’ me up all the way.”

Something inside me causes my lips to work a twisted smile. “I wonder what he’ll be more upset about, his daughter being locked up or his car getting impounded.”

“Not sure, but I’m guessing he’ll try to get his car out first,” Morgan starts to laugh and I join him.

“Assuming he can find it in one piece, those cop lots are awfully dangerous for cars.”

“Especially to a nice, expensive, car like that one.” Morgan gives a playful wink before going back to his drink.

My chuckle lingers into my own sip of Scotch before ensuring the rest of business is cleared. “The raid on the club will be tomorrow?”

“Soon as the sun goes down and there’s a description out for the Viper guy already.”

“Good.”

“Not bad for a single day’s work.”

“Actually, today was supposed to be my day off.” My friend arches a curious brow and I add simply. “Garcia.”

Morgan nods some before grinning. “Well I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“I’ll tell her tomorrow.” It’s already been decided. “She’ll find out anyway.”

“True.”

“And it’ll be worse if I don’t.”

Morgan laughs. “Very true. And, if Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.”

The statement makes me wonder about Lil’s mother, JJ. Is she happy or miserable in a house with two psychopaths? Does she even know or is she, somehow, blissfully unaware? That doesn’t seem possible…such a smart woman, a woman who digs for the truth as a journalist must know on some level.

“Do you think her mother will push to get her help?”

“Whose?”

“Lil’s.”

Morgan shrugs. “Don’t know, but even if she does, will it do any good?”

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

The thoughts and doubts hanging in our minds force glasses to our lips for a final, long, swallow.

“Sometimes hope is all we have, but it’s still better than nothing.”

***///***

 _"Until the day when God will deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is contained in these two words, Wait and hope." ~ Alexandre Dumas_


End file.
